


Mama's Help

by Genie60



Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning, Having Faith, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Parent(s), Marriage, Parent-Child Relationship, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 21:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9403238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genie60/pseuds/Genie60
Summary: An addendum to Episode 10--What if Ross gave up and was ready to let Demelza go?  What if Demelza was at a loss to make him understand?  Help from unexpected sourced bring them back to where they belong





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this work is totally the creation of another Poldark fan who asked me to post for them. I only tweaked, advised and supported this first time writer. (a first for me too)
> 
> Kudos to Mary Teresa Morris on making her own leap of faith and writing this.

He saw, through her tear rimmed eyes, that his words were not enough to reach her heart. He had lost; lost it all. He stood and watched as she silently turned and went upstairs. He turned in the opposite direction, returned to the library and closed the door behind him. He sat on the cot and wept as he had not done since his mother died.

 Upstairs, she stared at herself in the mirror. Why could she not have given him some sign that she would forgive him?  It seemed to her, that after the first anger and rage, the feeling she fostered to wall off the love she felt for him took over and moved her farther and farther from him. The replacement feeling was hate. As she stood there, her thoughts flashed past all the memories of Ross and her that she, or hate, had told herself were lies. Memories that she knew were of the love that he preferred. Then something from even farther back: a memory of her mother. Demelza had been angry at one of her brothers and told her mother vehemently that she hated him. A sharp look stopped her words.

"Never let yourself give into hate,” her mother admonished.  “It will cost you dearly, for it will stomp on the love you carry. You will not be able to truly love anything or anyone after it gets its hooks into you. Look at your father."  Her mother was right.

  She lay down on the bed fully clothed and stared into the dark. She spoke into the empty room, her voice filled with emotion as she prayed quietly.

"Mama, if you can hear me help me. Let it not be too late. Help me feel what I once felt; no not that. For I see that old feeling as being perfect, untouchable; the hero I saw Ross to be when I first came here. What I want is to feel the real, imperfect, love for the Ross I know is human, moody, infuriating but also the one that I love...but that feeling won’t come."  She drifted off whispering, "Mama."

  In the library, Ross's sobs slowly came to a halt. He wiped his eyes and blew his nose on his cuff....the thought that Demelza would kill him for doing such a disgusting thing nearly started the tears again. He moved to the desk and scratched out a note, hastily sealing it. Placing it in his pocket, he walked to the barn and hitched Darkie to the cart and brought it round to the front. He lifted the trunks and the carpetbag and placed them in the bed of the cart. He placed the note on the seat, tethered Darkie and walked back to the barn. He climbed to secret place in the loft he used as child to hide from the world when the pain became too much. There he curled his body as he lay on his side and gave way again to his loss and pain flowing through him.  

 

     Demelza came downstairs and saw the trunks were gone. She thought that he had understood her meaning and had carried them to the hall upstairs but she didn’t remember seeing them. Then she heard Darkie. Going to the door she saw that he was hitched to the cart, the luggage in the back, and a piece of parchment on the seat. Moving closer she recognized Ross’s handwriting and shakily picked up the note.  She unfurled it and leaning against the wheel, began to read:

_"Demelza, I saw last night that my words, my true words, have come too late. I have lost the love of my life. So my dear, I let you go now, for I cannot bear seeing that glance of hatred whenever we cross paths. I know now that I have killed the only thing that matters to me. Know that I there are two people that will never forgive me: you and me. I will spend every day of my life hating myself for it and loving you with all my heart. I will send for Darkie and the cart in a day or so. I would like to say good-bye to Jeremy, for I know I shall not see him again. However, I do not want him upset, so that may not be best. That will be your decision.’   My real, imperfect and abiding love, Ross_

She read the note once and then again, as tears sprung to her eyes. She shoved the note in her pocket and went inside finding Prudie in the kitchen. For all intents and purposes, Ross was gone.

“Where is Captain Ross?” she asked the servant.

“His special place, I 'pose.”

“Special place? Ross has a special place? For what?” Demelza asked.  She was confused since apparently Prudie knew something about her husband that she didn’t and it aggravated her.

“Not trysting with Mistress Elizabeth if that is what you think. ‘Tis a place he would go to hide after Missus Grace died and when Joshua was either so drunk or so mean that he would have killed that boy had he found him.”

“'Why?”

“Why anything? For one, and most times all, Ross has his mother's eyes and hair...and laugh."

“Why would he go there....wherever it is?" Demelza asked getting tired of questioning Prudie and just wanting answers.

"Cause he has lost the only thing he has loved, really loved since Missus Grace died....you."

"He loves, loved, Elizabeth,” Demelza retorted, her voice turning sharp.

Prudie saw her mistress’s attitude changed and decided she needed a real talking to.  She spit into her kerchief.

“Nonsense, maid.  He was besotted with the only kindness since Missus Grace. He knows that."

"Then why couldn't he say so ‘til now....now.....,” Demelza cried.

   “That it is too late...maybe. Look maid, he loves you.  A real adult love. He knows he was wrong. He is heartsick that his words came too late. It took him this long, I think, to see that the last woman he loved this deeply was Grace, not Elizabeth. I 'member him screaming ‘Mama, I love you. Come back’, as they carried her coffin outta the house. Joshua damned near killed him. Look, Mistress, I probably will lose my job for sayin’ this but it needs sayin’. Two marriage vows were broken in this mess. Yes, he broke the vow to be faithful. Do you know how many men of his class make it clear to their wives that a mistress or two, or three are part of the contract? He spent one night with an old love. Yet ‘tis wrong none the less.”

Prudie let that sink in as she watched Demelza’s face comprehend what she said.  Seeing that it was making sense, she continued.

“But you, Mistress, are not guilt-free either. Ain't there another vow about loving the other in good times and bad?” Prudie’s look was one of mother scolding her youngster and Demelza was transported back to her childhood. “Looks to me that you put up no fight for him. If you love the man, you fight for him. You put your marriage above all else. Neither of you know how to forgive ....or to ask forgiveness. I knew Joshua and I seen your father. Well, one of you had best move to the forgiveness side, scary though it be... or Jud & I will be sleeping in the upstairs room again."

Demelza gave up trying to fight the tears for she knew Prudie was right.  She was a born fighter and for some reason, in this instance, had done exactly what Prudie said; she gave up.  Steeling herself for another reprimand, she wiped her eyes and looking directly at Prudie asked,”  “Where is this special place?"

 "I dare not say. He'll thrash me."

 "I'll thrash you here and now if you don't tell me!” Demelza cried.

  "Now that is the Demelza Poldark I recognize. It is the hayloft." 

Not wasting another minute, Demelza walked outside and led Darkie back into the barn. She left him, cart and baggage as she glanced up to where she thought Ross might be. He saw her come in but had not made a sound. She took a deep breath and talked to the silence:

“You broke a vow to be faithful and I tried to do the same.  I did break the vow to love in good times and bad; I let anger turn to bitterness and, yes, hate. I have come to see that the breaking of that vow caused as much destruction to our marriage as did the breaking of the other.”  Demelza stopped talking and waited for some sort of sign from Ross that he was listening.  Hearing nothing she continued.

   “I would say that there is enough guilt to carry a lot of need for forgiveness and forgiving on both our parts.  Twill be a hard road and need lots of talk...something of which you are not fond...but if you are willing, I am. I am sorry for my part of getting us to this point.” 

Still hearing nothing from her husband so Demelza decided that she had said her peace and now it was up to him to decide what he wanted to do.

“I’m going to walk, think, and pray. If I see the cart by the door when I return, I'll not bother you again. I’ll go.  Just know you are my first love and my best friend as well. I, too, will regret it the rest of my days if we have lost each other."

She turned and walked to the cliffs, a place that held so many memories both good and bad.  As she stood overlooking the water, she thought, cried and prayed. She watched the Navy ships sail into the distance and wondered. _Is Ross on Darkie now, riding back to re-enlist_? _Would he be on the next ships out?_  She breathed another prayer, _'Mama, help me, if he does stay, kill the hate and let the love rise.'_

From deep inside her soul, Demelza was sure she heard the voice of her mother. ‘ _Call on me, daughter. Hate is no match for love...true, real love._ ’

 At that moment, she heard the crunch of gravel behind her and knew it was Ross. A hand, toughen from hard work and yet soft when touched, reached out to her, slightly shaking.  Putting a gentle hand on her shoulder, he turned her to face him.  Yes, it would be a hard road back; however, she knew love was still there and his love was real.

He felt her soften in his grasp. He looked at her and kissed her gently and reverently. She looked at him, not with the coldness he had come to see, but with a hint of warmth and sorrow.  He pressed his lips to her hairline and she turned slightly. They stood this way for the longest time.

“Ross, we have been here for a long time.”

“I don’t want to let go yet. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“This might be a dream…one from which I do not wish to awake.”

She wiggled free and looked at him with the eyes he remembered, the yes meant for him.

“No dream.”

He smiled. A tear worked its way down his cheek.

“I find tears of real contrition and love to be a very attractive quality. I have an idea about your ‘special place’….

“Remind me to thrash Prudie.”

“No! More like slip her a few guineas for her own use. Now for the loft.”

“Yes?”

“It should become our place to talk. A private place. No interruptions. We talk things out. No anger, no excuses, from either of us. We listen…and talk. And when we finish, we leave in peace and love.”

“Agreed.” He cracked a small smile. “What happens when we get too old to climb into the loft?”

 For the first time in weeks, he heard a small giggle. Then her face turned serious again and Ross knew she was thinking about something else.

“And?”

He immediately looked tentative. She saw and squeezed his hand.

“This date will be our second anniversary. The first is June 24th. The second, the re-starting of our married life, is today. This one only you and I celebrate for only you and I know how close we came to losing all on this day, and how blessed we are to be starting anew.”

He glanced away to gain composure. “ Agreed. You know, do you not, that you are my wife, my lover, the mother of my children, and my best friend. And love you with everything I am, or ever hope to be.”

“I may be a little behind in feelings. But, yes, Ross, I know. I am regaining my love for my husband, my lover, the father of my children, and my best friend.”

“I will follow your lead in the regaining, for a do not want to damage this fragile sentiment.”

“It is not that fragile, Ross.”

They turned and started back to the house, arm in arm. He stopped.

“What?”

“Darkie. That poor horse has been hitched to the cart since first light.”

“Well, then bring him round front”

Ross involuntarily gasped. She blushed.

“Not for that. Not ever for that. To bring the luggage closer so you can carry it upstairs. While doing that I will get Darkie unhitched him and give him some feed”

He sighed. “Right. Where do you want the trunks? “

“In the middle of the floor! Judas!!!!! Where do you think I want them? Big one in our room, little one in Jeremy’s, carpetbag in our room. When you are finished there you might as well take down the cot and put the linens by the door so I can hang them to air.”

He gazed at her, happy, puzzled, not sure.

“Are you sure?”

“Well, another part of what Prudie told me is that you can’t work on healing a marriage without being married. Not altogether sure, but we have to start re-building, since it seems that that is what we’ve decided.”

He tightened his grip on her waist. “How did you get so wise?”

“You will think me silly if I tell you.”

“Some days, but not this day”

She gave him a small playful shove.

“Thank my Mama. I asked her to help me. I knew all was lost if she couldn’t. I had let the hate get hold of me.”

“And did she?”

“Yes. Somehow, she let me know that real love, like that we are re-building, will conquer hate.”

Ross pulled her into a hug. He whispered into her ear, “Where is she buried?”

Tears sprung to her eyes.

“What? What did I say?”

“Nothing. It is just that I don’t know. He weren’t no church person then, besides there weren’t money for no stone. Just know that it is in the church cemetery.”

“Do you want a stone? I’ll search the church and cemetery records. I will put up a stone.”

“Why would you do such a thing….for Mama….for me?”

Ross smiled and stroked her hair.  “You know I am not the church going type, but I do believe. I believe your mother did help you….help us.  For that, she has my unending gratitude. I should like to have a place to honor her.”

She wiped away tears and smiled at Ross, her Ross that at this moment was eager to do anything to please her.

She thought for a moment. “No. It’s too far. I would never get there. I know she is not a Poldark, but do you think we could put up a stone next to Julia? That way she would have both her grandmothers, even if my mother is there just in spirit, like.”

“So it will be. I think I owe that lady my very life….for you are my life.”

“Will the parson allow it?”

“For a contribution to the roof fund, he will agree to anything.”

Then they parted, Ross to tick off his list of chores, and Demelza to hers.  She didn’t come back and he went looking for her. He found her sitting on the ledge of the loft. He climbed up and they sat and talked, cried, talked some more and cried some more. ….. and listened to each other. Listened, really listened, for the first time in all their years.  They learned things about each other that they had never known. Things that made each make so much more sense to the other.  As dusk started to descend, the barn started to chill. He went down first and helped her down. On the second step, she stepped off into his arms. ‘Prudie also said that the loft has never been used for a certain thing”

“Good God!”

“It is too chilly now, and I think that your first night back as a married man, fully married, ought to be spent in your bed, next to your wife, not in a loft of hay…. However, warmer days are ahead.”

He kissed her, with more response each time. He finally lowered her to the ground.

“One last Prudie supper! Playtime with Jeremy! Then Mama & Papa off to bed. By God, what a day can bring!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that spring, a stone appeared next to the grave of Julia Grace Poldark. This one was engraved

_Demelza Carne. Beloved mother of Demelza Carne Poldark, Honored Mother-in-law of Ross Poldark._

And roofers started work on repairing the sagging roof of the church.  George, of course, along with his wife, filed a complaint with the parson that a ‘stone for a ghost’ was reprehensible, and was in the section for gentry. If those Poldarks had to do something, could it not have been in the pauper section: more fitting.  The parson looked out his window at the roofers. He paraphrased Pontius Pilate, “What the bishop and I have decided, is decided.” George’s contribution to the parish dropped by 40%. Ross’ increased by 40%, though try as she would, Demelza could not translate that into Ross crossing the church threshold any more often.

The new stone often had flowers placed at its base. A simple card, “Thank you. RVP.” was always tied to them.

**Author's Note:**

> I am humbled by this work as it was written by someone who said they admired me. That's never happened before but makes me realize that my little distraction means something to others. 
> 
> Please read and comment...and I'll pass along the messages.


End file.
